


Blue

by i_buchanan



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-War, Time Skips, following the time honored tradition of ignoring canon after Winter Soldier, soft smut, softly alluded to period typical attitudes, though the timing of the ending is pretty ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 13:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20742869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_buchanan/pseuds/i_buchanan
Summary: A blue discharge (also known as a "blue ticket") was a form of administrative military discharge formerly issued by the United States beginning in 1916. It was neither honorable nor dishonorable. The blue ticket became the discharge of choice for commanders seeking to remove homosexual service members from the ranks.Or, I read When Brooklyn Was Queer and had a lot of emotions over it





	Blue

I.

The letter had looked so unassuming in Bucky’s hands in spite of the fact that he knew full well what was in it. He’d seen Marty get his weeks prior, seen the tightness between his brows as he read it and relayed that he was being drafted.

Christ. Drafted.

The idea of war was bad enough, but knowing that he’d have to leave Steve here?

Steve would be alone, defenseless. He had a hard time holding down a job, not that Bucky blamed it on him. Times were tough and Steve should be in college anyways instead of hauling crates like Bucky did. Get himself something better than what Bucky had.

He didn't want to abandon Steve like everyone else seemed to. The thought put an ache in his chest that never went away, only easing slightly when Steve was in his sights.

And even if there wasn’t the issue of leaving Steve on his own, Bucky didn't want to go to war to begin with. He didn't want to die out there and leave his mother and sisters to worry about him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t  _ fair _ .

And, sure, he would admit that he attempted to get himself out of it. While he was sure others were going to try and say the same thing, it was at least true with him. If he had to disgrace himself privately for this, it would be worth it.

The recruiter had laughed when he’d said he was a homosexual. Laughed, called him a liar, but sent him to the doctor to be examined anyways.

The examination process was more invasive than he could have imagined. Getting poked and prodded by cold, disapproving hands and eyes behind a flimsy sheet before the doctor declared that he obviously wasn’t queer and he was issued his orders.

Which meant he had to tell Steve that he’d enlisted. Act like it had been a choice on his part, solely so Steve wouldn’t think less of him.

God knew that Steve had tried to enlist himself three or four times already.

So, with his orders grasped tightly in his hand and the windows locked and shuttered, Bucky lied right to his face, said he’d decided to go to war.

‘You did  _ what _ ?’ he asked, voice soft as a whisper, eyes wide and paler than a sheet of paper.

It hurt to see, and Bucky’s gaze dropped as he repeated himself. ‘I enlisted. Figured if you want to go do your part so bad, maybe I should do the same.’

Steve didn't take it well. Of course he hadn’t; Bucky didn't think that he would, but there was something about the anger, the frustration Steve hurled his way in response to finding out that made him feel small. Made him feel lower than dirt.

He deserved it, though. Deserved to feel beaten down like that for disappointing Steve.

Bucky had to grit his teeth, tighten his jaw and try to keep his shoulders straight in the face of it. Tried to ignore the stilted silences that they found themselves in while they waited for Bucky to ship out, and  _ tried _ not to throw that same anger back when Steve returned with more and more 4Fs.

Then suddenly, entirely too soon, it was the night before Bucky would leave for good. And he wasn’t entirely sure he was going to make it back alive, not that he would ever say anything like that to Steve.

Christ. What was going to happen to Steve when he didn't make it home? He hoped that someone, maybe his family, would take him in. Maybe Steve would find someone who loved him, and Bucky wouldn’t be there to get in the way.

Even though it was almost definitely the best option for Steve, it still settled sour and ugly in his stomach.

They’d gone to Stark Expo together, a couple of women by their sides that Bucky immediately forgot the names of. It didn't surprise him when the women darted off together, and Steve skulked off to try and get himself shipped off to war as well. Leaving Bucky to look over the Expo with markedly less enthusiasm than he normally would have. The bright lights and crisp autumn air didn't do much to soothe him.

Steve returned home after Bucky did, looking more tightly wound than ever. Fists tight by his side and that familiar defiance in the jut of his chin.

So beautiful that it made Bucky’s chest ache, the feeling more familiar than anything, really.

“Steve--”

“Don’t,” he cut off, though his voice was soft. Authoritative, though Bucky still had to strain a bit to hear him. “Just… Not tonight. Let me have something good before you go.”

That made Bucky’s brow furrowed, unsure what he was getting at. His hands were loosely grasped in their blankets, head tilting to the side as he regarded Steve. “Please tell me you’re not going to try something stupid.”

There was the barest hint of a smile as Steve took slow, deliberate steps forward. “May as well, before you take it all with you in the morning.”

In spite of the fact that Bucky could see what was happening, he felt detached from it. Not putting the pieces together until Steve was sliding into his lap and pushing him down on the bed. “Let me,” he insisted again, fingers dipping under the neck of his undershirt.

And. Well. Bucky never knew how to tell Steve no. He didn't even  _ want _ to say no, some carefully unnamed feeling welling up in his chest that he tried desperately to not identify.

For all of Steve’s frustrations and anger, there was something soft in his touch. Something careful in how he eased the rest of Bucky’s clothes off and let Bucky return the favor before Steve got a hand around both of their cocks. 

Bucky didn't know how to do anything other than let him, his traitorous body giving him away as his hands fluttered uselessly around Steve’s hips and shoulders. It felt like a betrayal, gasping out Steve’s name like it was a prayer. Ignoring when Steve repeated his, pressing it into the skin of Bucky’s neck.

His hips jerked into Steve’s hand, still a bit cold and clammy from being outside, but a welcome balm against Bucky’s overheated skin. And as much as he tried to keep still, the low squeak of the mattress belied just how much he failed in his efforts.

He wasn’t sure which one of them started to cry first. But he knew that the first hot liquid to splash across his skin wasn’t either of their cum; their tears soaked into Bucky’s chest and cheeks long before either of them could find even a hint of relief.

II.

It was more than a little chilly, winter starting to set in on the front. Regardless of how well Steve’s new body held up to the cold, he could still feel it. Especially now that the sun was down but he’d been asked to report to Agent Carter and, well. He wasn’t about to keep her waiting. Even if he didn't like leaving Bucky all alone in their tent. Not when he’d just gotten Bucky back a few weeks ago.

“What’s this about, ma’am?” Steve asked, closing the door to Peggy’s barracks. His nerves were high, fear tightening up his throat, but he liked to think that at least he’d gotten good enough at keeping a poker face to keep her from noticing that for at least a little while.

The problem was, she saw through him just as easily as Buck always had. It was just a little more embarrassing considering that at least Bucky had known him since he was five. He’d known Peggy for all of a few months.

Her neatly manicured hands were folded on her desk, stacks of maps and other papers nicely set to the side. “I thought you should know in advance that there’s been whispers of discharging Sergeant Barnes.”

Whatever thoughts Steve had been toying around with, that had never crossed his mind. Her words seemed to rattle around his head for several painful seconds, along with the almost sad drop of her gaze that lasted only long enough that he could rationalize it as his own imaginings.

“They want to discharge him?” he repeated, unsure why the words sounded so hollow when he was the one saying them.

“He was caught in a rather… compromising position with another soldier.”

That--

Christ.

_ Christ _ that was not good.

Steve knew that Bucky was bent like that. Hell, he’d caught Bucky in ‘compromising positions’ more times than he wanted to, and the images burned into the back of his eyes were always tinged with a sickly, jealous sort of green.

He’d been  _ in _ a compromising position with Bucky before, for Christ’s sake. Something he and Bucky hadn’t brought up since, but a memory he still held close to his heart as if someone would take it away from him without a moment’s notice.

“They can’t do that,” he said belatedly, weakly. Almost shakily, he was embarrassed to note. “They… After what he went through, they’re going to discharge him just for that?”

Peggy’s dark eyes narrowed a bit. Hardened.

There was no accusation there, but he got the feeling she was looking right through him all the same. “You didn't try to say that it was impossible for him to have been caught doing that. But you’re right; they’re not quite sure what to do given… Well. We need all the soldiers we can get, Captain. I don’t think they want to have to send him back home like that. Especially when it would reflect poorly on you.”

Heat prickled the back of Steve’s neck, forgetting for a moment that he probably should have tried to deny that Bucky was like that. He knew that it was frowned upon at best, and it wasn’t as safe out here as it was in Brooklyn.

But there was something she said that gave him an idea. It would reflect poorly on him, and they didn't want that. As much as he hated it, he was a symbol. A public figure that the government didn't want to see being associated with a queer in any way, shape or form.

And considering that he and Bucky were already seen publicly together… Well. He could use that against them.

“Think it would reflect worse on them if I claimed I was the soldier he was caught with,” he said, more to himself than anything else.

It was a reckless plan. Bucky would try to shake some sense into him if he heard, and he probably shouldn’t have said it out loud with Peggy so close.

There was only a moment of hesitation before her lips curled, bright red and dangerous. Reminding him so much of the look she got when he confided that he was going to run away to bring the 107th back to base. “You should definitely  _ not _ put that claim forth to Colonel Philips. Especially not at this hour, when he’s still likely pouring over maps. You know where he does that, how he gets.”

Relief bloomed in his chest, his heart thudding painfully as his shoulders dropped. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

It was nice to have someone as stubborn as he was around. A nice change from Bucky’s beleaguered compliance.

* * *

“I’m sorry, you did  _ what _ ?”

Really, Steve should have expected this. Of course Bucky would have known that a discharge was coming down on him. He’d probably known before Peggy pulled Steve aside to tell  _ him _ about it.

“I convinced them not to discharge you,” he repeated, sliding his tie loose before working the buttons of his shirt open.

Some things didn't change even at war, it seemed. It hadn’t been hard to convince Bucky to share a bunk with him and most people just didn't think twice about it, considering they all seemed to know that the two of them shared an apartment beforehand.

“And how exactly did you do that? How did you even know about that to begin with?”

Belatedly, he wondered why Bucky hadn’t thought to warn him about it. His hands paused, shooting a sidelong look at Bucky, still standing stiffly near the entrance.

He looked exhausted, Steve realized with a sharp pang in his chest. Exhausted, stressed, and like he was about five seconds from pulling his hair out.

Maybe, Steve realized, it would have been better if he let Bucky go back home. It had been selfish to even ask him to stay in the first place.

When the silence felt heavy, dragging, Steve forced his gaze away, returning to stripping down for the night. The cold was definitely more pronounced now, but hopefully that would change once he and Bucky were tucked under the blankets together. “I told them that if they were going to send you home on a blue discharge, then I was going to go talk to every damn reporter I could find and tell them that they sent you home for putting your cock in my ass. And that I’d make it very clear that I told you to do it.”

Bucky choked a bit, and there was definitely a bit of misplaced satisfaction that Steve felt from rendering him even temporarily speechless. Smooth-talking, lady-killers Bucky Barnes.

Steve couldn’t quite hide the smug quirk of his lips.

“You threatened the brass with outing yourself--which, you’re not even fully queer; I see how you look at Carter--and you’re trying to tell me that you did it convincingly enough that they’re letting me off. Steve, you’re a terrible liar; how the hell did you-- _ Why _ did you do that? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get into?”

Bucky’s voice got continually louder, higher, almost frantic by the end of it, and all of Steve’s smugness melted away leaving nothing but shame to sit heavy in his stomach.

It was just like when he’d get lectured by the Sisters or his mother, only infinitely more painful because it was Bucky doing it.

“You said end of the line,” he said softly, a stark counterpoint to Bucky’s tone. “I meant it too, you know. You get sent home, I get sent home. Besides, I was queer enough to push you into bed before you left. Does that not count?”

The silence felt heavy after that. Weighing down his shoulders as they looked at each other, trying to communicate without words.

And, really, it felt like his words were damning enough as it was. They had left him raw, and maybe, just maybe, Bucky could hear that as well.

Finally, Bucky took a shuddering breath, averting his gaze to one of the barren walls. “When you put it like that, it sounds like a love confession.” A hint of bitterness seeped into his tone, making Steve wince.

“Would that be so bad?”

Steve almost wanted to take it back the second the words passed his lips, falling from his tongue as easy as anything in spite of the fact that he  _ shouldn’t _ be saying things like that. Not now, especially when Bucky was already upset with him.

God, he was probably just making this whole thing worse, and the pause before Bucky said anything was just painful, prickling at his skin like needles.

“What about Agent Carter?”

The knot that tied in his throat was impossible to speak around. What about Agent Carter? He couldn’t lie and say there was nothing there. He felt that spark. Appreciated her company, and he knew he could want more with her, but--

But.

“I’d rather have you.”

Bucky’s eyes closed, dark lashes fluttering a bit as he took a slow breath. “I won’t make you choose, Stevie. You know I don’t know how to refuse you anything that won’t kill you.”

It was supposed to be reassuring, probably. He doubted Bucky said that with the intention of hurting Steve, but that didn't lessen the stab in his chest. “You’re not some kind of side thing to me, Buck. I’m not--”

“I know. And I wouldn’t put up with it if that’s what it was. But, Stevie, I’m not going to try and get in the way of you having a more normal life.”

“Because having two lovers is definitely a normal life,” Steve deadpanned.

Bucky clicked his tongue, and somehow  _ that _ loosened up the knot in Steve’s throat. A teasing gesture that was as familiar as Bucky’s arm looped around his narrow shoulders. “You know what I mean; don’t play dumb. I was always better at that than you were.”

Steve rolled his eyes, settling down on the cot so he had to look up at Bucky. He still wasn’t used to being taller, even if it was only by an inch or three. It was true, though, much as he hated to admit it. Both the assertion that Bucky was good at pretending that he wasn’t as bright as he really was, and that Steve knew exactly what he had meant by that. “I’m not hiding you.  _ If _ that’s something that I consider, she’ll know about you and me.”

He didn't need to look to see the exasperation on Bucky’s face. But it helped to see the fondness written in his eyes all the same. A softness to that steel-grey that just made Steve want to melt.

“Are you with me?” he asked, feeling almost too exposed with how he was sitting there, barely clothed in an undershirt and shorts while Bucky stood across from him, arms folded and still in his full, if disheveled, uniform.

But then, Bucky probably would have shut him down instead of trying to offer some sort of alternative if that’s what he was going for. As much as he talked about not denying Steve anything, he wasn’t in the habit of letting him down easy, either.

Finally, Bucky’s arms dropped to his side after raking a hand through his hair.

It was getting long. Looking much better than the regulation haircut he’d sported before shipping out, with soft waves constantly trying to tumble into his eyes.

“Yeah, Stevie. End of the line, like I said.”

That tight anxiety in chest loosened, blooming into something soft as his shoulders dropped.

Was it perfect? No, not by a long shot. But it was miles better than what he’d come in here with, and he wasn’t about to let that go.

III.

“I shouldn’t have stopped them from sending you home.”

The day hadn’t even properly begun yet. Bucky didn't open his eyes, but if Steve was still in bed, that meant it had to be before five in the morning.

And, really, Bucky wasn’t sure why he had woken up. It wasn’t nightmares. Steve hadn’t been talking loudly and wasn’t even  _ moving _ aside from the steady up-down of his ribs as he breathed.

Still, he sighed and rubbed his face against Steve’s bare chest, feeling vaguely like an overgrown cat even if he would deny it when Steve said anything remotely similar. “I wouldn’t have let them send me home if they tried. You wouldn’t have either, so I don’t know why you’re focusing on  _ that _ .”

Steve hummed lowly, his hands carding through Bucky’s hair. There wasn’t a lot of sadness in his earlier tone, at least. Bucky was pretty sure they both had more than their fair share of regrets, but it felt like they were learning how to handle them, bit by bit.

“I just… I fought so hard to keep you with me that I never considered that you’d have been better off if I let you go home.”

_ There _ was the regret. With a soft groan, Bucky pried open his eyes to look up at Steve.

The grey of pre-dawn was just enough to see by, highlighting the almost pensive look in Steve’s eyes. Dulling the bright blue just enough to be noticeable.

He pushed himself up on his elbows as if that somehow put them on the same eye level. Needing to get this through to him, in spite of the fact that he was sure they had this conversation at least ten times before. If not about the discharge, then the train, or the helicarrier, or  _ something _ . “Stevie, the second you arrived I knew I was going to stay there regardless of what anyone else had to say about it. You have to know that, right? I wasn’t going to leave you out there regardless of what you, the Army, or the goddamn President himself had to say on the matter.”

A flash of pain was palpable, crossing Steve’s face, almost faster than Bucky could blink, before shuttering off into something almost blank. “Buck, come on. You don’t think that you would have been better off?”

That… God, that was tricky, really. Because the torture he endured still kept him up at night. Still woke him up screaming. But that didn't matter, if he was being honest. Not in regards to this. “It has nothing to do with me being better off. I wouldn’t have done it, and I don’t think I would have changed anything even if I knew what would happen.”

A wounded sound got strangled in Steve’s throat as his hands tightened around Bucky’s hips.

There was nothing threatening in the gesture. Maybe a little possessive, but Bucky mostly felt like it was Steve’s way of trying to offer protection. Even if there was nothing to protect him  _ from _ . Not here, not anymore.

With a soft answering hum, Bucky started maneuvering himself until he was comfortably slotted on top of Steve; one leg between Steve’s thighs and the other draped over his hip while his chin was propped on the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“Baby, it got me here with you. In a time where it’s almost  _ safe _ for us.”

“It’s not like Sands Street.”

“Nothing’s like Sands Street. Even  _ Sands Street _ isn’t like Sands Street.”

Steve’s mouth twisted a bit, but even he couldn’t deny the truth of that statement.

It had been strange, figuring out Brooklyn again. They had assumed that most things would be gone, but it didn't make it any easier to discover just how much had changed in their absence. It still hurt to see their old haunts razed to the ground and replaced with other things.

Hell, the fact that it was so much harder to get to the docks where Bucky used to work was jarring. Two new highways made the waterways harder to access, and that wasn’t something either of them had ever considered  _ could _ change.

“You don’t miss it?” Steve asked.

And that… Well. That was something Bucky had spent a long time sorting out for himself. What he actually missed, and what was just nostalgia.

What was just him missing something familiar when the whole world seemed to have turned on its head sometimes.

“I miss things about it,” he allowed. “Miss being able to curl up around you at night, and that we always knew where we could go to. Miss that people weren’t getting their faces beat in just because they were queer.” Bucky paused, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek in the cool metal of his left palm. “But I don’t miss how sick you were and how much you suffered. And I don’t really miss having to hide from most of the world, either. And lube’s nice; I’m glad that got better over the years.”

Just as predicted, that brought a familiar flush to the tips of Steve’s ears.

God, he loved that. Loved how his complexion gave everything away, even to this day when he should be past being embarrassed over this kind of thing.

Bucky was so charmed when that wasn’t the case.

“Your mind’s always in the gutter, huh? I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here.”

The sun was slowly starting to creep above the horizon, starting to peer through their curtains, though neither of them made any sort of move to get out of bed. It seemed like Steve was content to stay there under Bucky’s weight instead of going out to run like he usually would around this hour.

“I’d rather be here with you, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter when, doesn’t matter the circumstances. And even if you hadn’t fought my discharge, I would have found a way to stay with you out there anyways. I just wasn’t meant to get a blue discharge, and that’s all there is to it.”

At the very least, Steve’s face softened again. It probably still wouldn’t sink in fully because Steve didn't know how to take the blame off of himself, but it was a start. “I’m kinda surprised you didn't try to get one at the start, to be honest with you. I know you didn't want to go to war in the first place.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose before tucking himself into the crook of Steve’s neck. Right. He had never told Steve about that. Hell, he never admitted that he hadn’t enlisted to begin with. Steve had to find that out through his ID number. “I  _ did _ try that. Guy laughed at me and said I obviously wasn’t gay and the doctor would say the exact same thing when he looked me over.”

“God, right, that.” Steve scoffed, and Bucky could practically feel him rolling his eyes. “You look plenty gay to me, but that might be because I see you on my dick a lot.”

“Now who’s got their mind in the gutter?”

As if it was an answer in itself, Steve’s palm slid up Bucky’s back. Warm and reassuring, with the small calluses from handling the shield barely catching on the myriad of scars that dotted his body. “Nah. That’s just me speaking facts, Buck. Totally different.”

And, honestly, Bucky wasn’t in the mood for that kind of argument, as petty and lighthearted as it would be. It felt a little too much like deflecting, and they were both trying to do that less. It was important, really, that they both figure out how to talk more plainly about things that really bothered them.

So he sighed, still arching up into Steve’s broad palm because he was only human after all. “This is where I want to be. And nothing would have changed me from this course, because I wouldn’t leave you behind like that. So I’m glad you kept me there, even if your method of doing so was just fucking ridiculous.”

“It wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

At least if he was down here, Steve couldn’t see him roll his eyes. Granted, Steve probably knew anyways. “Yeah. All right.”

When Steve’s hands started to move back down his back again, he could either view it as a delaying tactic, or… Well. He could just welcome it and maybe worry about this when the sun was higher in the sky.

Or in the sky at all, he supposed.

“This all right?” Steve asked softly, pausing just at the small of his back.

Neither of them were hard. With nothing but bare skin between them, Bucky could tell that much. It didn't stop him from humming lowly and readjusting himself so he was straddling one of Steve’s thighs a little better. Just because neither of them was physically aroused  _ now _ didn't mean they couldn’t change that pretty easily. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m all right; we’re good. Don’t stop on my account.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Steve deadpanned.

In spite of that tone, Steve didn't need any more prompting to continue to reach down, fitting one of Bucky’s ass cheeks in his palm. Not pulling, not kneading yet, but just cupping it. Getting a feel of him as if they hadn’t been doing this since ‘42.

That wasn’t the point, he supposed. The point was that Steve wanted to take it slow, and Bucky was hardly going to complain about it at this point.

Bucky could feel his breath slow and Steve matching him. There was something more calming than anything about the way Steve gently maneuvered him around a bit with careful hands. Settling him across Steve’s hips instead of his thigh and allowing him to rock into the soft press of his cock.

There was something almost uncharacteristically careful about the whole thing, really. Usually the two of them had too much energy, too much desperation for things like this. Usually it was them pulling at clothes, pushing, shoving, practically trying to devour each other while sharing gasped breaths.

This was slower, and somehow managed to cause a feeling of security to blanket over him as he settled firmly over Steve’s hips. Hoping that he could give Steve that same sort of feeling as they slotted together, from their mouths to their tangled legs.

Time seemed to stretch like pulled sugar. Slow, sweet, a little hypnotic. He couldn’t say with any certainty when they got hard, or when the slide of their cocks became overwhelmingly slick with their precum. All Bucky could really focus on was the warmth in his gut and the soft, blissed-out look on Steve’s face.

The sun was starting to come up over the horizon, golden light spilling through the curtains in a thin slice in a way that seemed to punctuate the moment when they both spilled over onto Steve’s stomach and chest.

Steve’s hands were locked around Bucky’s shoulder, the back of his neck. His lashes fluttering as the furrow between his brow smoothed out in ecstasy.

It hit low in Bucky’s chest to see him like that, unable to stop himself from leaning down to press their lips together. Trying to convey that soft, overwhelming feeling as best he could because he knew that if he tried to say it out loud, he’d just stumble and trip over his words the entire time.

“I love you,” Steve mumbled, the words crushed into their kiss. “Wish I could’ve protected you better, like you were always protecting me.”

There was something a little melancholy in the curve of Bucky’s answering smile, hiding that away in the crook of Steve’s neck. There were a lot of regrets in Bucky’s life. But he never once regretted how he’d put Steve’s safety above his own.

He supposed a lot of Steve’s regrets came from the fact that Bucky never allowed him the chance to do the same.

“I love you too, gorgeous. Always have, always will.”


End file.
